


Be Nice To Me

by shrdmdnssftw



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrdmdnssftw/pseuds/shrdmdnssftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam tries not to judge, really, he does. But there's only so much he can do when the customer pulls out a bag of cucumbers, a box of ribbed condoms and three bottles of lube. </p>
<p>(Or, a supermarket AU based off of <a href="http://shrdmdnssftw.tumblr.com/post/34483596443">this post</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Nice To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badjujuboo (miztrezboo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miztrezboo/gifts).



> For the Liam to my Zayn, the Patrick to my Spongebob. I love you, HAPPY BIRTHDAY (sorry this is so late). Also, the bits about horoscopes and astrology and what not are nabbed from [here](http://earnestandthemonster.tumblr.com/post/36015118998/liam-and-louis-are-astrologically-destined-a) and my mind. THIS IS REALLY SILLY, in case you couldn't already tell? So apologies if the prices/people/situations seem ridiculous.
> 
> Also on [LJ](http://shrdmdnssftw.livejournal.com/19000.html).

Liam hates his job.  
  
Well, not really. Liam actually quite likes it - the steady employment, the airconditioned environment, even his coworkers. His job's okay, really, but it's the customers he hates.  
  
Working check out from 5PM to 10PM at the local supermarket didn't seem like too bad a job when he'd applied a couple years back, fresh out of college and looking for something to tide him over as he entered university. His mum'd been okay about him moving out, supportive even, but insisted that he have some sort of employment, so that the fees for his dorm could be subsidised somewhat. Of course, he wasn't really to know that  _this_ particular store was on the path between the university dorms and the local pubs.  
  
So of course, this means that what Liam had thought would be a peaceful shift, instead involves 1) the evening crowd, mainly disgruntled office workers who can't be bothered buying groceries on a weekly basis, and instead buy single, reheat meals, 2) the pre-drinks crowd, who deem Liam's counter to be the only one to buy their cigarettes and snacks at, and possibly the worst, 3) the post-classes crowd, a steady trickle of students walking home after the misfortune of having a late lecture.  
  
Liam used to feel bad for them, during his first few months of working there. He himself had only signed up for morning classes, way too used to waking up at half five for track and field practise, but each and every night, without fail, there'd be five, ten students that would pass through, baskets full of junk food, or energy drinks, or a mishmash of both.  
  
And Zayn's told him about the late crowds, working the deli counter himself. Horror stories about  _just how much_  cold cut meat a guy might buy at 9PM after a double sociology session, but Liam tries not to judge a person by their grocery list. Being the main check out attendant means that he knows the regulars and the regulars know him, and who is he to judge, really, if The Guy with Too Many Wrist Tattoos buys an inordinate amount of hair product for someone whose look is basically bed-hair.  
  
He even thinks he likes the regulars, sometimes, but then he'll be flicking through his English Lit notes during a store lull, and be called over because someone's tipped over the stack of lima bean cans on display next to aisle 6, or he'll be asked when they're restocking a product that has been discontinued months ago.  
  
Liam no longer feels sorry for the post-classes crowd, one too many Red Bulls spilt over his white work shirt, and too few smiles or apologies at that time of night to make up for it. In fact, he'd probably go so far as to say that they're the worst of the people that pass through. Some of the lads will pass through, a smirk at the guy working on Friday night, and Liam knows that look from years of being not quite in any group. Toss a box of condoms on the counter, grin crossing their face as their girlfriend giggles off of their arm, and if Liam weren't so desensitised to it all, he might actually find the time to care about how crass it all is.  
  
Instead, he repeats a cheerless, "Have a nice evening," and leans back against the counter as they walk out the automatic doors.  
  
So Liam has a job with customers he hates but it's enough to pay for what the scholarship doesn't cover, and it's probably not for forever, despite the fact that he's been there two years now, promoted to assistant manager. Zayn calls it boring, and Liam finds himself inclined to agree. That is, until,  _he_ walks in.  
  
-  
  
Liam swears that he doesn't believe in horoscopes. Used to scoff at the sight of his elder sisters fawning at the newspaper. He's long given up on knowing how his day will go, but maybe there is something like fate, because over their lunch, some time between classes and when their shifts both start, Zayn pulls out what Liam suspects to be a copy of The Sun. After rattling off his own fortune (look out for a dampener early in your week, but otherwise things should shine) and begins to read Liam's horoscope aloud.  
  
"As a Virgo," Zayn begins, waiting for his coffee to cool, "you have expectations for what is about to happen in your life."  
  
Liam scoffs into his sandwich (rye bread with turkey, rocket and garlic aioli) and picks up his can of Pepsi. "Doesn't everyone?"  
  
Zayn gives him a stern look over the lip of his mug. "Though you may think that all is set in stone," he continues, "a new encounter at work will be sure to shake things up. Virgos have a keen sense of purpose and today will mean good things for their realisation."  
  
"Okay," Liam says. "So basically you're saying that, what, the love of my life will waltz into the supermarket, packet of two minute noodles in hand, ready to woo me with his amazing cooking skills?"  
  
Zayn laughs at that. "I didn't say anything about romance, mate. But now at least I know what's on  _your_ mind."  
  
"Oh, shut it," Liam replies. And maybe he has been thinking about it a fair bit recently, his mum calling up, a bit too concerned about his lack of social life.  
  
"Even your sister has more of her photos up on facebook," she had prattled over the phone. "And she's not logged on for a good five months."  
  
But it had reminded him that, despite being a few good years into his education, and having lived in the same place for just as long, his friendship circle consisted of Zayn, who he worked with, Josh, who he sometimes bumped into at the university's music rooms, and Niall, who lived two rooms down and always bought five packets of salt and vinegar crisps on a Tuesday evening without fail.  
  
Zayn pokes at his friend's arm, bringing him back to the present. "There's no shame in it, Li. Goodness knows the last time you went out."  
  
"Went out on Monday," Liam protests.  
  
"The library doesn't count," Zayn replies. "Especially if you're not chatting up anyone."  
  
Liam resists the urge to flip Zayn the bird, and instead finishes off the last of his sandwich, wiping his hands on a serviette. "Don't need to, according to your paper, anyway. Says I should be getting something interesting today."  
  
He says it with a twist to his mouth, and Zayn knows that he's taking the mickey out of it, but smiles back anyway.  
  
"Just you wait, Li," he says. "Bet you that something interesting will happen."  
  
-  
  
Liam doesn't expect much from the day, no matter what the paper might suggest about his future, and sure enough, the shift starts as usual. He and Zayn part ways at the entrance, Zayn going to the prep room to put on his hair net and gloves, and Liam tucking a sheaf of his latest course notes under his arm as he settles into the check out counter's space.  
  
Standing on his feet for five hours a day is tedious at best, and painful at worst, but the fact that Paul doesn't mind him studying on the job helps a bit. The guy he takes over from looks much too bored with his afternoon shift, and sometimes Liam thinks that they share some sort of friendship, purely through Liam relieving him of the check out job, but the ten minute overlap in their work schedules means that they've never actually interacted more than a nod to the other as the guy walks out the door.  
  
So Liam is reading up on the works of Loftus and Palmer for his Psychology course, and trying to see how many times Zayn will wink at the customers from across the supermarket. The bright lights mean that Liam doesn't ever really notice night setting in, and he counts the time by progression of the customers. Once the suits start turning into jeans and sneakers, he knows it's around 8PM.  
  
By this gauge, it's almost 9:30 by the time anything life changing happens. He's actually starting to understand the evidence behind leading questions and their effect on eye witness testimony when a shadow crosses his line of sight, signalling the arrival of yet another customer.  
  
"How's your day been?" Liam asks, a reflex from the training he'd been pushed through. There's no reply though and Liam lifts his gaze to find himself looking at one of the post-classes crowd, clearly still harried from whatever lecture he's come out of.   
  
He's gotten the quiet ones before, customers who don't want to interact much with others, and Liam understands it in a way. But this guy - he's not really one of those. Liam's not really sure why he's not saying much, but when he props his basket up on the conveyor, starts taking items out, Liam understands why the guy is averting his eyes.  
  
Liam tries not to judge, really, he does. But there's only so much he can do when the customer pulls out a bag of cucumbers, a box of ribbed condoms and three bottles of lube.   
  
He scans the items dutifully and tries to ignore the way that a flush is bright over the guy's sharp cheekbones, or the way that he keeps rocking back and forth in his Toms. Liam clears his throat, catching the guy's attention, and bright blue eyes flick up to meet Liam's gaze.  
  
"That's £18.50, please," Liam says, and he's quite proud to say that his voice doesn't shake half as much as he expected it to.  
  
"Um," the guy replies and Liam thinks it's a shame that he's quiet, because the guy is cute enough to have been the thing to shake up his day. In any case, he fishes out his wallet, which was somehow fitting into the back pocket of his skin tight jeans, and fishes out a twenty to pass over. Their fingers brush and Liam tells himself that it's probably a static shock.  
  
He backs away from the touch and is careful to drop the change and receipt into the guy's hand, without touching him. Waiting until he's picked up the plastic bag, Liam smiles at the guy, in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. Something that says, I won't tell anyone, really. Of course, he sticks his foot in it when he says, "Have a good night, then."

Without a trace of humour, the guy laughs shortly, still red in the face, and says, "You too."  
  
Liam watches him walk out the door, torn between embarrassment for himself and curiosity  _and_  embarrassment for the last customer. He settles on confusion overall, and tries to turn back to his notes.  
  
Halfway down the page, he realises he's not absorbed a single word of the passage, and Liam thinks that maybe, this is what is meant to shake up his world.  
  
-  
  
"Ah, so, um, hi," Liam hears and he looks up from his notes (history of modern rock, today) to find the guy from last night standing in front of him, basket in hand.  
  
"Hello," he replies, but it's half a question.  
  
The guy looks flustered yet again, but in a whole other way to yesterday. Instead of being embarrassed, he's more sheepish, and Liam's wondering what it can mean when the guy pops his basket onto the conveyor again.  
  
"Busy day?" Liam asks, stuck in a loop of constant small talk, but when the first item he pulls out is a bag of carrots, all he can remember is the contents of the guy's basket yesterday and flushes at the implications of his question.  
  
He scans the item, and tries not to read into the lack of response. Liam's not sure if there's a way to convince someone you're  _not_  horrifically interested in their sex lives, especially when you ask about their forays into the vegetable aisle.  
  
"Ha, yeah," he huffs and the guy has his nose scrunched up in a way that Liam does not find attractive. Of course. "About that. Um, I'm not-"  
  
"I don't judge," Liam interrupts, which, of course, makes him sound like a judgemental dick.  
  
He'd lamented this to Zayn over coffee today, his friend lucky enough to not have a shift and lazing about as Liam complained about his lack of people skills lately.   
  
"And it's not even that I'm not  _good_  at it, because I am," he'd said, skipping over the cucumbers. "It's just that I always seem to have foot-in-mouth disease."  
  
"Not sure that's the actual name for it, Liam," Zayn had replied, voice slow and sunglasses over his eyes.  
  
"Not the point," Liam had whined.  
  
The guy (and Liam wishes he had something else to call him in his head, but Lubey hadn't quite fit) actually laughs at that, proper laughter that's a bit raspy, like his voice. "No," he says and it's with a proper smile, eye crinkles and a bit self deprecating. "I was going to say that I'm not usually in the market for that kind of stuff."  
  
"No?" Liam asks and he picks out the next few items from his basket. They're mostly benign (deodorant, a packet of Mentos, three biros and an apple) and Liam finds himself slipping into the conversation.  
  
"Would you judge me more or less if I said my mates put me up to it?" the guy asks.  
  
Liam tries to stop his lip from twitching up, because he had the sorts of friends that'd dare him to do that, back when he was in college. Since he moved, he hasn't been up to much, though.  
  
"Maybe more," replies Liam, just to see what the guy will say, and he's glad for it when the guy scrubs a hand through is hair, clearly at odds as for what to say.  
  
"Well, then. Yeah," he says. "I-"  
  
Liam decides to save them all here, and he just smiles, says, "£9.80," and waits for the guy to pass over the note. When they do the exchange, there's no shock, but Liam still feels a little buzzy over it. Smiling charmingly, he picks up his bag of groceries.  
  
"Thanks, Liam," he says as he turns to leave, and Liam's confused for a second, before he looks down and sees his name tag.  
  
"You're welcome?" Liam says, but it's quiet again, since the guy has already left, the only sound being the low shop music.  
  
-  
  
"No, but really, I'm not," the guy says, and that's Liam's cue that it's 9:30 again, his apparent new regular arriving like clockwork to confuse him once more.   
  
"Not what?" Liam asks and he picks the first item from the basket (a toothbrush. Red in colour, Liam approves).  
  
"Into cucumbers," and he flashes a smile. "Or carrots, really. Not big on produce."  
  
Liam lifts and eyebrow at that, scanning the tag on the bag of aubergines.  
  
"My flatmate likes salads?" the guy tries.  
  
"Uh-huh," Liam says. He's not quite sure what it is about this customer in particular, what makes him stand out from the other bored twentysomethings that buy from this shop, but he finds himself looking forward to the exchange. He also finds himself remembering that it's only been two days.  
  
He scans four more items (a tube of toothpaste, half a kilo of self raising flour, a bag of almonds and super glue) and reads out the total once more.  
  
"I'm Louis, by the way," the guy says, holding out a credit card this time. "Just in case you were wondering."  
  
He looks so confident in his speaking, Liam's not really sure how to respond, but he tries a smile on for size, and swipes the card through the reader.   
  
"Well, Louis, pin or signing?" Liam asks and Louis' mouth pulls up into a smile too.  
  
-  
  
"But was that really the oddest thing you've seen?"  
  
"Hi Louis," Liam says. Lately, he's only been coming in every other day, and the first time he'd skipped, Liam had (possibly) (totally) been disappointed. The next night, though, he'd turned up, buying another eclectic assortment of groceries again. Liam's found that the more that he's turned up, the more Louis' opened up to him, and there's no real connection between the blushing guy on the first day, and the guy tapping his hand against the counter today.  
  
He passes over a carton of milk and waits for Liam to scan it before asking again. "Like, Aiden and I had a bet, that we'd make the weirdest combo to buy, right? Send the other one out to get it."  
  
Liam nods, like it's making any sense to him. "Go on."  
  
"So then Aiden, he's my flat mate, says to get the cucumbers and lube and stuff, and I just thought that you've had to have gotten something weirder."  
  
He thinks for a moment while he waits for the receipt to print, and decides on an answer as he tucks the paper into Louis' shopping bag.  
  
"You're pretty weird," Liam says, and he hopes he hasn't done it once more, knows that his joking tone doesn't always come out right. But Louis' face lights up, and he laughs, and Liam's fast finding himself with a favourite sound.  
  
"Ah, but no one's taking me home, are they?" Louis says.  
  
It's maybe, possibly a hint but before Liam can work it out, Louis' waving goodbye, out the door in time for the post-drinks crowd to start coming in.  
  
(It mainly consists of Niall, tonight, and his bandmates. Liam thinks that maybe one of their names starts with J, or all of their names do, and it's a little confusing, but they're all nice, and they avoid throwing up on Liam's floors, so he doesn't mind)  
  
-  
  
"So when're you asking Cucumber Guy out," Zayn says.   
  
Liam's very upset that Zayn happens to know about Louis now - it'd been nice, to have something to himself, but he supposes it's his own fault for admitting that maybe, possibly, the horoscopes were fun to read.  
  
"Not- I don't-" Liam sputters. "His name is Louis."  
  
"Ah, so you haven't worked up the nerve yet?" and there's a smile playing at Zayn's mouth.  
  
"You know that's weird," is what Liam deigns to say. "And really forward."  
  
"The guy practically asked you to do him on his bedroom floor, Liam. I think he's okay with forward."  
  
Liam sighs. "He said no one is taking him home, that's hardly the same thing."  
  
"Idunno about you," Zayn says, "but if I was saying that to a guy, I'd be wanting in his trousers."  
  
"But you don't even want in guys' trousers," Liam says.  
  
"And you keep missing the point," Zayn retorts. "Just, ask him out, yeah? Next time he comes in."  
  
"Maybe," Liam says, and Zayn raises an eyebrow at him, sceptical. The thing is, Liam actually finds himself considering it.  
  
-  
  
The next time Louis comes in, Liam is halfway to asking him out, he really is. It's not so much that he's nervous, as that the idea is crazy. Louis' late, though, cutting it very close to the end of Liam's shift, so he's had ample time to postpone it to Friday.  
  
"Hiya," Louis says and he's got a smile on his face again. Liam's not really big on body language, but he can see the way that it's Louis' nervous smile again, same as the day when he'd come back in, explanations and stuttering.  
  
"Louis," Liam nods and it's a little formal, but in a silly way, fun.  
  
Propping his basket onto the conveyor once more, Liam raises an eyebrow at the contents.  
  
Like the first night over again, there's a packet of condoms, some lube and, somehow, Liam's favourite chocolate bar.  
  
The conversation stalls, or maybe doesn't start, but Liam picks up each item and scans it. When he looks up, Louis' already holding his card out and Liam takes it, and allows himself to brush skin with Louis.  
  
"So you've found someone to take you home then?" Liam asks, and he wonders if he'll ever manage to  _not_  say ridiculous things to nice customers.   
  
"Actually," Louis says and he waits for Liam to pass over the receipt. "I was kind of wondering if you wanted to."  
  
Liam looks into Louis' eyes at that, hand still hovering over Louis' to pass him the slip of paper and Louis' got this hopeful look on his face.  
  
"I- what?" Liam says, and he's so confused, but also kind of wary of the way that Louis looks like he's about to bolt.  
  
"Um, unless I've been reading things wrong and I should really just go."  
  
And Louis' turning to leave, and Liam's brain  _finally_ catches up with his mouth and he says, "No," grabbing a hold of Louis' wrist.  
  
"I mean, yes," Liam says and Louis turns to look at him. Liam can feel how fast Louis' pulse is going, underneath his skin and thinks that maybe his own heart is beating just as fast. "I'd like to, you know, go out. Sometime."  
  
Louis looks like he can't believe his luck, but Liam really can't believe his and it's almost like it's meant to happen this way, however ridiculous it may seem.  
  
Zayn chooses to ruin the moment then, yelling "hook in!" as he passes by the counter on his way out from the deli. But then Louis does actually lean in, comes close enough to kiss and Liam closes the gap, possibly making the right move for the first time.  
  
"Sometime," Louis agrees. "Like after your shift right now?"  
  
Liam smiles and thinks that yeah, this could work.


End file.
